


Drunken Color

by bmvagawood



Series: The 'I'm Drunk And Accidentally Broke Into Your House' AU [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hangover, M/M, Mild Language, POV Multiple, actual dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmvagawood/pseuds/bmvagawood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That "I accidentally broke into your house because I was really drunk and thought it was my friend's, so I fell asleep on your couch now here we are" AU except with Ramwood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Color

Geoff expected maybe to be woken up by a sigh of “not again” and a pillow thrown at his face. At worst, a cup of cold water dumped on him. He wasn't planning on a scream ripping him from his dreams as he flailed around and fell, lips kissing cold black tile and still very much hung over. Well, he  _was_  wondering why the couch seemed to have moved. Time to pray he doesn't get arrested. Hey, at least he has his clothes on.

“Are you okay?” a deep voice rumbled hesitantly, betraying the higher shriek earlier. At least the person was considerate, Geoff thought, rubbing his eyes so he can see what house he accidentally slipped in. The walls were a weird off-white color. It reminded him of creamy buttermilk which was completely different from the stone gray in Griffon’s living room. The couch was stiffer and smaller, a light blue that did compliment the surrounding cream, he barely fit lying across. The TV was also a lot smaller than hers, probably meant for just one person.  _Wait, is that an Xbox-_  Soft thumps along the ground reminded Geoff that he was on the floor, the nice chill fading as his body heat evened the temperature. Yeah, he should probably get up now, this guy must be freaking out already.

A groan escaped his lungs as he pushed himself up to sit up, pain spiking in his brain. Bleary eyes meet the ocean condensed into two rings of deep, beautiful blue… which is what he  _should_  have said instead of “Holy shit, that’s blue as dicks.” His mind was poetic occasionally, his mouth was not so much at times. 

The person was a man, a rather attractive one, and was only a few steps away. Dirty blond hair stuck up at the top of his neck, it matched the stubble crawling over his strong jaw line. The strands fell into curious eyes despite the circles under that were dark against pale skin. A phone was clenched in a hand, ready to call someone which was probably 911. Couldn't blame the guy, he would react the same himself at seeing a stranger on their couch. Maybe even worse.

What a terrible way to wake up on a relaxing Saturday to find out someone broken into your house now that he thought about it. But nonetheless, the guy was hot and he didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing. Like  _hey I’m hung over as hell and it seems like I broke in but do you want to go out or fuck?_  Geoff was happily studying his red plaid pajama pants when the stranger spoke again, “I don’t think that answer applies to my question. Why in the hell are you in my house?”

How do you explain that many bottles of beer and shots of vodka made him think that climbing into his best friend’s window in the middle of the night was a good idea?

“I’m alright, just having a hell of a hangover. Uh, my friend lives next door so I thought this was her house?” his voice cracked somewhere in that sentence and Geoff has never wanted to melt into the ground more. The ground that he was still sprawled on, he should probably stand to save some dignity. He tried to get up but everything conveniently spun and his legs were lagging behind the rest of his body like playing multiplayer with bad internet connection.

~

Ryan surged forward, catching this odd stranger from falling flat on his face  _again._  Speaking of faces, his was way too close to Ryan’s, the alcohol in his breath caused the other to recoil. This isn’t how he expected to spend his morning,  _taking care of a drunk_. He just wanted to play Halo for fuck’s sake. Annoyed, he manhandled the guy back onto the couch and rushed to give him the trash bin. Ryan sat on the arm chair, rubbing circles into his back as he emptied his stomach into the poor blue bin. Thank god he remembered to replace the full bag yesterday.

It reminded him of his friends, not drinking automatically made him designated driver and caretaker of the hung over. Soon the retching reduced to a few pitiful spits, and Ryan took the can from him to tie the bag, trying very hard to not gag. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the man about to wipe his mouth with his shirt sleeve. 

"No! Uh, don’t do that, you’ll just regret it quickly. I’ll get some tissues," the blond advised, eyes scanning him as he rushed out of the room. He heard a mumble as he searched through his kitchen for the box, "I already regret this…" Something in Ryan’s chest clenched painfully at the defeated and tired words. It sounded a lot like his own usual tone. He felt a little bad for being so harsh to the guy in his mind, maybe he just had a bad night and wanted to forget.

Walking back with a warmer smile, Ryan placed the tissue box on the table and took a few sheets into his hand. “No, I can-” “Nah, I’m afraid you’d poke your own eye out,” he kept his voice teasing as he seated himself besides the stranger, finger gripping his jaw to steady it. As he wiped away saliva and other… fluids from his mouth, Ryan took notice how the guy was actually pretty attractive. While he was holding the dude’s face.

He appeared tired with lowered eyelids and dark circles but bright blue eyes peered at him with such intensity as if trying to look at his soul. Black hair pointing in all directions, but it looked kind of cute with his furrowed eyebrows and short beard. His plain black shirt seemed a size too big and jeans worn. Is there such a thing as an adorable hobo? Oh god what’s going on with him. Who crushes on the drunk stranger in their house?

"Geoff, with a G and o," he said suddenly and Ryan stared at him before fighting the urge to grin.  _Geoff_ , it fit him well. ”I’m Ryan, nice to meet you, Goeff.” “Oh shut up, you know what I meant.” He couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke, but Geoff started laughing too. Time to bust out every piece of funny material he knows because that laugh was  **amazing**. Eventually, when it settled into soft chuckles and Ryan started panicking because what now? He threw the tissues on the table, racking his brain for what to do with a guest (in the loosest term).

"So um do you want something to eat? You’re probably hungry," he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.  _You’re also kind of hot and I don’t know how to feel._ _  
_

"If that’s cool with you, I mean I kind of showed up out of the blue," Geoff looked down at his arms as if ashamed and Ryan nearly had a heart attack because _tattoos._ To avoid speaking, he instead grabbed his arm and dragged him to his kitchen. “Ow! Careful there, Strong Arms McGee.” But a glance back at the playful grin made him feel like a giddy teenager again.

Ryan had never laughed so hard and so much in his industrial white kitchen. Most lunches were eaten out and dinner was usually in front of the Xbox. He couldn't stand the hospital feel. Breakfast eaten quickly and with dreadful silence at going back to his boring computer job. But Geoff had brought  _color._  Pink in his lips as he recounted his night of regret filled shots after another breakup. Red in his frustration of being single again. The color of the sky in his eyes at he gave his full attention at any tale Ryan told, cereal and toast abandoned. Words painted the room.

The rest of the rainbow was inked into his arms, Geoff allowed the other to drag his fingers down the designs. Stories of what they meant as his fingertips met soft skin, some were just because he loved the look and others spoke of the past. He didn't persist when a handful weren't explained, they only met an hour ago after all.

But it was just so easy to talk, conversation flowed like a lazy river. Ryan found himself tell things he’s nearly forgotten, and learning from experiences of Geoff. When jobs became the topic, he spat venom of annoying customers and endless computer codes. “Maybe you should consider finding another one, dude,”  Geoff patted him on the back and his tone sympathetic, then his phone rang and the warm hand was removed quickly.

"Sorry," he said first with a sheepish smile before answering, "What, Burnie? Yeah, I’m alive. No- are you fucking kidding me? Can’t this wait till Monday? Ugh fine, but you have to pick me up. Griffon’s house. Bye, asshole." He groaned and sunk his head into his arms on the table, shoulders slumped.

"Work?" Ryan knew that posture well, although the other sang praises about his job earlier. Geoff nodded, unraveling his arm defenses to get up with a sigh. He shoved his phone in his pocket again and headed for the door, grumbling along the way, "Can’t go one weekend without having to do lines, god damn it."

Right before he opened the door, he seemed to remember Ryan who was still sat in the chair staring at him with curious eyes. His cheeks turned a soft pink and began to stumble over his words, “I uh really appreciated no- just thanks for- fuck, I have to go so yeah…”

"Yeah, it’s fine,"  _how cute,_  ”Just, um… well you know where I live.”  _Way to go, Haywood._  An engine rumbling interrupted whatever Geoff was about to say, a honk making him open the door. He glanced back at the blond and sent a wink his way, “Guess I’ll see you later.”

Silence followed when the engine got further and further away until it was out of earshot. Ryan thought about the drunk stranger turned friend, thought about their conversation. Then thought about his job. 

 _Fuck it,_  he grinned and went to find his laptop,  _Craigslist is worth a shot._


End file.
